Nameless
by Himmeh
Summary: "When Jack was human he had a perfect life, but during the night terrified screams echoed in his room, and Pitch had only a word to describe the boy... Beautiful". Pitchxhuman!Jack. Sequel: "Remember the name".
1. I

**I would like to thank my beta who edited it to me. I don't own Rise of the Guardians, but I fell in love with this movie... Is my first time trying to write about it and I hope that someone enjoy. My first language is not English so I apologize for any mistake that you can find here.**

**This story takes place while Jack was still alive.**

* * *

They said that the nightmares born from a dream.

On a dark night without stars the moon was surrounded by gigantic, darkened clouds and inside a simple house, wearing old clothes and wrapped in a thin blanket, a boy slept peacefully.

He dreamed of his family. He dreamed of a beautiful picnic at the crystalline lake filled with delicious foods. Around could be heard children laughing loudly and singing birds. He dreamed about the joy, the warmth of a summer day, the hope of a teenager who has his whole life to discover.

In his small, humble room, furniture were sparse. The rug was the only thing that brought some heat on that freezing night, besides the flickering flame of a small candle.

They said that dreams make people move on, but what the humans did not know was that fear was the first feeling that arose in humanity.

Suddenly the candle went out, leaving the boy's room in shadows.

He shifted in his bed in an uncomfortable way with a low sigh and unconsciously pulled the blanket, trying to hide from something he did not even know what was.

Under his bed, between the shadows of the night and the cold air, a pair of golden eyes opened.

As a black serpent, the creature crawled along the ground, emerging from the worst fears of the boy.

Pitch smiled, showing his sharp, bright teeth.

He knew the boy cannot see him, but he could not contain his feelings to find a soul so youthful like that. Pitch could almost feel his heart beating again such his joy to see there, lying down, without any defense, with no chances to react against his nightmares, a person who genuinely believed in the world's charms.

In a carefully manner the boogie man slid one of his fingers through the boy's face, feeling that natural human heat, sighing as the ghost of a smile played on his lips.

He loved watching people's dreams, and it did not take much effort to delve into the teen's mind, entering the peace of his precious thoughts.

"Jack" - Pitch murmured, savoring each letter.

With a simple movement the boogie man planted the seed of a nightmare. With shining eyes, the creature watched the dream fall apart in a blackened fog, and was with fascination that he watched the boy's reactions.

Jack fidgeted, moaning with fear, clutching his clothes in an effort to cling to something that was real. It was an attempt to wake up and get rid of that horrible nightmare. But Pitch could not let the boy woke up, at least not yet. He needed to see more, his whole body cried to watch the teen's fear expressions.

The work of the bogeeyman was simple: to awake the worst fears of a person at the time of its rest, and he loved it. Loved interrupt gentle and cheerful dreams, loved seeing people suffering, especially those who were so strong. It was as if, through fear, Pitch could meet people. The fear made that humans reveal their true personality.

However there was a downside. The solitude.

Pitch could touch and talk to those who believed in his existence, but he had never given much importance to this fact... At the core of his being he claimed for some company, someone who could understand him and share the same feelings he carried over the years, but he knew he could never get comprehension, not having to do this kind of work, after all he was bad, he was a _villain_.

Jack bit his lower lip so hard that a thread of blood ran down his white skin.

Pitch stepped back somewhat surprised.

That boy... Was _fascinating_.

He realized that the day was dawning, and with sorrow distanced himself, blending between the shadows, being swallowed by the wall, but at any time Pitch stopped watching the guy, seeing as he opened his eyes slightly scared, breathing with some difficulty.

Pitch almost felt his heart beating.

* * *

**Review please? o/**


	2. Always

**Thank you too much for all the favs, alerts and reviews! They all means a lot! **

**The next chapter will be, probably, the last -apparently people didn't enjoy this fanfiction too much...**

**Ann, thanks for edit it to me! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistake that you can find here. I don't own RotG.**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

Burgess was a bunch of houses that stood in the middle of a forest, veiled by the huge sky and surrounded by a lake that was very popular in all seasons.

During the summer families used to walk around, the kids loved diving in the clear waters and cool off. In autumn people enjoyed to make picnics and tell funny stories until dusk. During spring the children ran around the lake, picking flowers, playing, laughing. The season that attracted less people from Burgess was winter.

Through snow period the lake, once so full of life and apparently harmless, had its waters frozen. The stones wore a white robe and the ground could hardly be seen. The cold was so severe that seemed to cross people's skin and curl up in their bones. But children kept enjoying themselves on that frozen lake. Especially Jack.

The boy loved the cold, the freezing wind hitting his face, the tip of his fingers becoming chill. He liked to feel the ice under his bare feet, to watch the snowflakes falling slowly, silently from the sky. It was like a rain, but more gentle and beautiful. His eyes sparkled in delight every time winter approached.

Jack was the kind of boy who spent his time with fun. His hobby was playing with the little ones of his town, and even knowing that he was growing, even listening to his mother every day saying he should behave like an adult, Jack was still a child. A lovely child. And despite the constant nightmares, he held that bright, sparkled smile. Pitch did not understand that, and it just fascinated him even more.

The boogie man, more than anyone, knew the Burgess's residents. He used to spend hours of his time with each one of those people, watching their nightmares closely, invading their sweeter memories, and he knew that after terrible nightmares humans tended to stay scared, cowering in their beds, shaking until the fear start to dissipate, but not Jack. The boy just closed his eyes and sighed before jumping out of bed with renewed energy. What gave him such power? What was the reason that made him swallow his fears every day?

The nightmare king watched with bright and hungry eyes the simple room door opens, waiting for the young man.

The sky was dark with almost no stars and some gray clouds strolled slowly, obscuring the moon's brightness.

Pitch waited until Jack lied. He could hear the quiet breathing that sounded like soft sighs, a delight to his ears. Pitch waited until Jack fell into a deep sleep. He could feel the heat of the boy's body, and it was so inviting, so _enticing_.

The boogie man came out from under the bed like a ghost, materializing his body made of black shadows in front of a sleeping Jack.

It was with a smile that he watched the boy's face. He looked so happy, innocent, in peace... That the nightmare king almost forgot his work. A part of him insisted on staying there, watching the peaceful sleep of the teen, but then, with a quick motion, Pitch contaminated Jack's dreams, shattering them as if they were fragile flowers, beginning a nightmare that made the guy squirm with fear.

It was a beautiful scene.

The boogie man walked away toward the darkest corner of the room, accommodating himself in the shadows.

People's fear used to evolve with time and generate new kinds of bad dreams, but Jack always dreamed of the same thing. Death. The pain of leaving his family. The fear of failing to protect those he loved.

What intrigued Pitch was that, even though he knew the boy's fears he never grew tired of watching him. Night after night. Year after year. The boogie man continued finding beauty in Jack's nightmares, more than that, in the expressions he made.

Several times the nightmare king caught himself wanting, _desiring_ to touch the teen. Much more than just sliding his fingers across the silky skin, much more than feel the hot breath...

Pitch remained motionless in his place, watching the most beautiful show that a winter night could give him. And then, when the yellow suns light raided a crack in the window, illuminating Jack's face, the boy opened his eyes.

Brilliants, as two precious stars.

The boogie man's inside shifted, warmth invaded his usually cold body and, at that moment, Jack glanced at the corner of the room where the shadows concealed his presence.

Pitch was taken by surprise, he did not expect the boy would wake up so suddenly and look at him. _Look at him_. Does Jack could see him...? Does Jack had _finally_ realized his existence?

The shadows enveloped the nightmare king, swallowing him quickly.

Pitch could feel... Low, weak, almost stopping... His heartbeat.

**~xxxx*xxxx~**

Jack's laugh was contaminating. The boy's joy of living was such that it was almost possible to see a contentment aura around him.

Hidden in the shadows, Pitch watched the guy play.

Jack hanged himself onto the huge tree branch, swinging and managing to get the kids' laugher, showing them that smile that the king of nightmares had begun to desire.

Pitch closed his eyes.

He was beginning to wish the teen's happiness.

He was starting to see _beauty_ on Jack's joy... But he could not. His job was to plant fear, shed tears, rip off screams of fear at night...

But then he saw himself following the boy during the day, watching him play and laugh and squander sympathy... He followed the teenager through afternoons, not getting tired of hearing the stories and urban legends about monsters he well knew were invented and, in the nights, the boogie man found himself standing in front of Jack's bed, watching him in a silent way, reluctant to break those so peaceful features with his horrific nightmares...

Pitch could not name what he was feeling, but he knew that something inside him was forming and taking life... Something... Nameless.

* * *

**Review please?**


	3. Believed

**Thank you too much for all the reviews, alerts and favs! **

**And here we go with the last chapter! I'm thinking about make a sequel to this fic, I don't know xD **

******Ann, thanks for edit it to me! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistake that you can find here. I don't own RotG.**

******Please enjoy!**

* * *

Golden eyes reflected the moonlight.

On that calm night the sky was almost cloudless. The snow fell slowly, covering the forest floor that surrounded a small town, making the landscape even more gloomy and cold. The whitish flakes landed delicately on the shoulders of a man dressed in black, blending in with the dark hair, merging with the obscure suits in a way that almost passed through the fabric to crust in the gray-skin, but the man did not move, standing with his arms crossed behind himself, staring at the moon.

It was like a forgotten statue. Abandoned for years by humanity. Hidden among the forest secrets waiting for the day that he could move again.

Pitch expression had touches of melancholy... A mixture of doubt and regret. Curiosity and joy. Butterflies in stomach and anger.

He felt hatred for failing to find answers to why... Why he felt so many things when he met, saw or just remembered Jack... A simple mortal could arouse many feelings in the nightmare king. A mere human, made of flesh and bone, had the ability to do Pitch fear. _Fear_. He, the being made of shadows whose purpose was to create nightmares, have fun when people were afraid to even leave their beds after a terrible dream... He feared for his own fate, his own fortune.

And yet there was that pressure on the stomach, that desire to, every night, return to the small Burgess town. That relief sense, the joy of being able to see Jack sleeping. In peace. Smiling. Dreaming of things that Pitch did not know. And then suddenly he found himself tempted to invade the boy's sweet dreams, eager to be part of his happiness. To become a Jack's memory. The most valuable. The most _sweet_.

He let out a short sigh, knowing that the Man in the Moon would not answer his prayers.

The boogie man did not hear that being for years, so much that his ears had already forgotten the tone of his voice. _If he possessed one_... However, Pitch could not avoid that hope which had clumped in his throat, waiting that some explanation for his situation would be sent out by the winds.

The king of nightmares was starting to get lost inside himself. He no longer knew who he was.

Pitch lowered his head, walking through the landscape coated in white, leaving behind footprints that nobody would see.

The moon illuminated his path, leading him to the near village. To Jack's house.

**~xxxx*xxxx~**

The chilly breeze almost froze his fingers, leaving small and subtle pieces of ice in his black clothes.

Pitch knew he should not be there. He did not need. But the view was simply beautiful, too attractive to ignore. It was as if the ice had trapped his shoes on the ground, preventing him from moving an inch.

His sharp eyes sparkled, trying to capture every moment, detail, color, feeling of that unique moment. The birth of a new spirit. One more soul chosen by the Man in the Moon to inhabit human world.

At the same time that his euphoria was great -the shadows around him fluttered with excitement, a tightness in his chest grew. Steel claws attached around his heart, stopping, gradually, the fragile heartbeats, because there, in the midst of suffering, ice, water and confusion was Jack.

The boy had been chosen for that immortal life. Pitch could no longer spy his dreams or try to be part of his memoirs; after all, Jack was no longer human.

The boogie man felt like he had failed. Failed to make Jack see him.

The shadows surrounding his ethereal presence slowly, covering his entire body like sand, but before Pitch closed his eyes, his lips parted almost without intent and his hoarse, weak voice whispered a question that remained unresolved, wedged in his throat.

"Do you believe in me?"

"_I always did_"

* * *

**For everybody who read this with me, thank you!**

**See you in another fic! **

**Reviews please? o/**


End file.
